


Stasis

by petiteneko



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood and Injury, Family Reunions, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-16 17:48:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18526531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petiteneko/pseuds/petiteneko
Summary: Unbeknownst to Law, Corazon did not actually die that day. Twelve years later, he learns the truth of what really happened.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> We were just discussing Corazon ideas in the lawlu server and whoops. My finger slipped. I decided to end it here - for now. Mostly because there's still a fuckton of prose left. I'll see about typing it up tonight or tomorrow!

It had been strange, really, when Law had received a summons. By the ex-fleet admiral of all people.

But there was a small part of him that humoured the idea. Because Law, he remembered. Remembered a smile. Laughter. _I'm not a Marine._ Remembered the phone calls. The code words. _Sengoku._

This man - he was the only person out there that knew _Rosinante_ and not Cora-san.

And that small part of him, that not-bitter part of him, it humoured the idea. It _listened_ to that idea.

So, Law, he listened to that summons.

.xxx.

Sengoku was waiting for him. Outside of a room, his body blocking him from seeing inside.

Sengoku, staring down at him. Sengoku, a man he had only seen at a distance in the middle of a warzone. Sengoku, a man he first heard through a snail phone.

Whatever Law had expected when they first met face to face, well… it was certainly **not** this.

For there was this _expression_ on his face. An expression Law thought he would never see on the man who had been the face of the Marines for so long:

He was tired. Oh so tired.

It was worn. Worn from years and years of torment

And finally this **_desperation._**

And, as Law glanced around their surroundings, as he inhaled and caught a familiar scent in the air, suddenly Law **understood.**

This was hardly a social call.

Then, there was the softest of sounds, bringing his focus back to the other.

"...Can you save him, Trafalgar?"

And with that request, Sengoku gestured to the room behind him. Towards the man who was obviously at death's door, for him to have been brought here. But he did not move.

The question here, it wasn't _can_ , but **would** , but Law was not about to correct an old, grieving man.

And almost - almost - did Law decline. He was with the Marines for a reason. He didn't owe them any favours. So many people have come up to him, knowing his devil fruit ability, asking him to perform miracles. It isn't his mission to save the world.

But then - then Sengoku stepped aside, and suddenly, Law was thirteen years old again, cold and covered in a blanket, screaming out to the world...

"...What is wrong?" He found the words thick - heavy - as they left his throat.

“Over a decade ago, he was… wounded in battle. Trying to save a young boy. The wounds, while they may have not killed him outright, it was the lasting damage that will kill him. He had shrapnel inside of him, and every beat of his heart could very well be his last.”

Law struggled to focus. Struggled to pay attention to the diagnosis. Because he could only hear each bullet as it left the gun. Could only _feel_ as they sent vibrations through Cora-san with every blow. Into his chest. Seven times. Seven. Fucking. Bullets.

“When we realised that… I asked Aokiji to freeze him. To stop his heart. To put him into stasis. Until we could find treatment.”

Law found his throat dry as he swallowed and struggled to find the words. To pretend that he was a pirate. A warlord. The surgeon of **death.**

“...That is quite the effort to put towards one soldier, Fleet Admiral.”

To pretend he was still bitter, when all that he could feel was _joy._

“He is like a _son_ to me, Trafalgar!”

_I love ya man._

“So can you do it, or not?”

“Let me in.”

.xxx.

Law lost himself as he stood before his patient. As he stared down in disbelief. Words. He could hear his last words as clear as day. Hear that joy. Hear that pride.

“Trafalgar?”

Sengoku’s voice brought him back to the present and Law snapped his head back towards the other.

“I brought the notes, as you asked.”

Law focused on the file in his hand. Stared at it. Stared at the name. As if the _frozen_ body behind him was not proof enough.

(How fitting, it was, for it to be _ice_ that kept him alive for so long. Cold. It had been so cold on Minion Island. Law had always envisioned his corpse to be covered in the snow that fell that day, his blood turning the pure colour scarlet, that goddamn smile on his face…)

Files. Yes. Files. That was what he needed to focus on here.

He reached out and grabbed the files without a word. (Really, he wasn't trying to be rude, but Law did not exactly trust his voice right now.) Then he flipped through the file, grimacing at the wounds.

(If only. If only. Law _could have fixed him._ He fixed his friends for crying out loud. A severed arm without the help from his devil fruit. And even Volff's extensive damage with the powers granted to him. Law should have stayed. Should have gone back. Should have… should have…)

The rattling of the file brought him back, once more.

Right, he had a patient to treat.

He handed the file back to Sengoku before he turned his gaze back to his patient, taking a shaking breath.

Then, he looked at his hands. At the letters staring back at him. At the word they spelled. At the meaning behind it:

Law, he held the balance of life and death in his hands. He saved Penguin. He saved Volff. Now, he needed to save…

Cora-san.

_Room._

He needed to see. See the extent of damage. See what he needed to fix. How to fix it.

_Scan._

...Sengoku most definitely was right about the stasis. The gun wounds looked _days_ old, at best. His body, still bruised from the beating Vergo gave him.

...It _sickened_ him.

(Because it was these very wounds that haunted him at night. These very wounds that he would relive over, and over. These very wounds that were _because of him._ )

Focus. Law _needed_ to focus.

“So, can you fix him, Trafalgar? Can you fix Rosinante?”

Law turned and nodded.

“Leave me alone with him. I… I need to concentrate. Once I leave the room, you can start the defrost.”

.xxx.

“...Will you stay?”

Law flinched at the suggestion. At the request.

Stay?

“...To ensure he does not need further treatment?”

Again, his form trembled.

Stay?

Could he? Would he even be able..?

(Law knew, he _knew_ that what he was planning on doing, Cora-san would not approve. But it had been the right thing to do. He gave up his goal and even - presumably - his life to save Law. And Law… he needed to honour that. Needed to make it right.)

“Please?”

Law exhaled.

“...Fine.”

.+++.

Cold. He was _so_ cold. His limbs were stiff, his head sluggish.

\-- _Where_ was he?

As he opened his eyes, opened his ears, he noticed many things:

Bright, surgical lights.

A white, sterile, room.

The trickling of water hitting water.

The steady, mechanical beeping of a heartbeat - _his_ heartbeat…

Ah. He was in a medical room of some sort…. He looked down at his arm, seeing even more wires and tubes connected to him. He was…

_Rosinante!_

...Sengoku?

No. No, this… it wasn’t right. It didn’t make any sense. Law - he was with _Law!_ He shouldn’t…

Rosinante looked up to Sengoku, only to pause.

… **When** did he get grey hair?

But then, then the man became all but a blur as Rosinante was tugged into a tight hug. As the man’s form trembled. As he blubbered out words into his hair. Something about gratitude. About missing him. About _almost losing him._

...Losing him?

(And then - then it came rushing back. Law. The Devil Fruit. Vergo. The birdcage. Doffy. The gunshots…)

**_Law._ **

Where? **Where** was he?! If Sengoku found his unconscious body, then certainly…

“ **Where** is Law!”

The words slipped past his lips without even thinking as he pushed Sengoku away by his shoulders. Law… Law. Oh, Rosinante was worried _sick._ That brat had better have…

And then, the strangest expressions made their rounds on his father-figure’s face. First, it had been relief, but it was then followed by confusion, by shock, before it finally became this **understanding.**

“Do… Do you, by chance, mean _Trafalgar_ Law?”

The words worked like whiplash. --How? **How** did Sengoku even _know?_ By all accounts, Rosinante had purposely avoided mentioning any of the children’s names. And yet, somehow, Sengoku had _known_ that Law - the child from Flevance that he had been on a self-imposed mission to cure - was indeed this child. That his last name had indeed been Trafalgar…

And then - it had been **fury** now that flashed over those wrinkled but familiar features as Sengoku turned about and rushed out of the room.

“ **Get back here you ungrateful pirate!** ”

...What…

What the **fuck** just happened?

Rosinante stared for a few moments in both shock and confusion before he shook his head. Nevermind Sengoku for now. Law, Law was who was important here. He **needed** to get back there. Make sure Law was okay. That Law cured himself. That Law didn’t that. That…

So he struggled, trying to disconnect himself from all the tubing and wires and needles that had been connected to him.

Law.

Law.

Law.

But, apparently, whoever Sengoku had been running after was not quick enough to avoid him. And Sengoku returned, dragging a young man around his age behind him, cursing under his breath.

Oddly enough, Rosinante noticed that the young man _purposely_ avoided looking at him.

Rosinante looked around, much like a child who had been caught red-handed but…

“Um… Sengoku? I _really_ do need to get going…” And, then, he took off the last thing remaining: the heart monitor.

But then, the young man who was very obviously not wanting to be here jumped up and glared at him.

“ **Put** that back on right now!”

It was amber eyes that he met. (Amber… just like Laws. Law. Law he **needed…** ) Amber eyes that were swimming in a turmoil of emotions. Anger. Pain. Sorrow. Joy.

But namely: **Fear.** This inexplicable fear that took hold of _everything_ in that man’s being. And that fear, it locked Rosinante in place.

“Ah-” He found himself stuttering. “I-I’m sorry - whoever you may be - but I _**really**_ have a place to be right now.”

Because, Rosinante knew Law. Law, he would be… Despite all of his hopes, Rosinante was afraid (just like the man before him), afraid that Law would _not_ to to the nearby town, just like he had instructed him to. Law… never had enjoyed going into cities…

Those amber eyes narrowed.

“The _only_ place you need to be, right now, is **here** , you buffoon.”

(Oh. Great. Now he was _talking_ like the brat, too. What the ever-loving fuck?)

Rosinante only narrowed his eyes back. Similarities aside, just _who_ did this prick think he _was?_ Ordering him around. Calling him names. Telling him where he had to be and when…

“Why _you-_ ”

He took a step forward, intent on showing this self-entitled prick just _who_ he was dealing with before--

Before the entire world just began to tilt.

“ _Room._ ”

And then, it tinted. Tinted blue, before...

“ _Shambles._ ”

Before he… landed on a bed?

“Hah?”

Rosinante found himself staring up at the ceiling and that blue tint faded just as quick as it came.

Then, Sengoku sighed.

“I knew it.” His voice echoed out. “You **are** him. Only somebody who knew him would react that quickly.”

\---He was _who_ now?

(The young man, not him. The young man, who resumed glaring down at him.)

“Rosinante,” but, he ignored that piercing amber gaze and looked towards Sengoku, who was sighing even more as he leaned against a wall, fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose, “I do suppose you have a few questions…”

\--No shit.

More sighing. “But, let’s get this out of the way first. Then, I suppose, you’ll actually _stay put_ instead of trying to run off. Rosinante, this is Trafalgar Law.”

\--Wait a minute.

_**What?!** _

No. No. This wasn’t making any sense. Law was a tiny, snotty-nosed brat who whined all the time. Not some surly, rude, tall asshole who--

...Well… actually…

Rosinante supposed that… theoretically…

“And second,” Sengoku’s voice broke him out of his thoughts, “you have been frozen for the last twelve years.”

...Frozen…

Twelve years?

“I really think you should have started with that one first, _oh great Buddha._ The last time his klutz saw me, _I was small enough to be jammed into a fucking chest._ ”

And Rosinante, he looked at the young man now. More intently. Those amber eyes. The face that he could superimpose Law’s face onto. The stern, eternal frown. And then, that snarky, sarcastic attitude…

Rosinante was beginning to actually believe…

“ _...Law?_ ”

“Yes, I do believe we have already established that, Cora-san.”

Oh. Yeah, there was no doubt about it. That was _Law_ alright.

He felt a smile splitting his face. Law. Law was here. Law was _alright._ Law was--

....Law was an _adult._

And now - now his eyes widened, his mouth agape. If Law was an adult, that meant…

“It _worked!_ Law! It **worked!** We did it! **You** did it!”

His vision was swimming now. Glad - he was just so fucking **glad.**

“You’re _alive!_ You’re **better** Law! Oh gods I’m so happy I could-”

“ **Rosinante.** ”

“ _Cora-san._ ”

\---Ah. Right. He supposed he _almost did_ , didn’t he?

“...Oops?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. Stuff happened. But here you guys go :D

Fucking Sengoku. Fucking bastard. Law didn't want to be here, damn it. Especially with Sengoku here.

And now, now that god damned klutz was sobbing at his feet and---

Law tugged on his hat. Averted his gaze.

God.

Damn.

It.

And now, now Cora-san's words whispered back to him: _we will be on the run. The Marines will be hunting us. Doflamingo will be hunting us…_

Why did that clown have to open his damn mouth?! While Sengoku may not be the Fleet Admiral any longer, he was still part of the Marines…

“You've grown so much, Law. _Look_ at you!”

And what Cora-san did… he stole from them. For him. For his sorry ass. And he… he…

Law clutched his remaining fist.

Cora-san had lied to him. He been completely willing to **die** for him. And until a few hours ago, Law had thought he **had.**

And now, now the damn klutz was alive. Sobbing at his feet. Still injured and wounded as fuck. Only concerned about just how much Law had **grown.** Ripping out his fucking monitors and ivs…

“Get your damn ass back into bed, Cora-san!”

And Law, he could only yell because if he did anything else, he would have broken down.

.xxx.

“Technically, knowing what I know now, he should be arrested.”

Cora-san had fallen asleep - wounds like that did not heal overnight after all. And Sengoku had pulled him out of the room and had decided to _talk_ to him.

“The two of you stole the Ope Ope no mi, using Marine intel.”

“Technically, no. We used pirate info. We only called you to confirm it.”

Sengoku groaned and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Semantics, yes. Yes, he knew, but the less trouble Cora-san got in, the better.

“He is coming with me. On my sub. With my crew. That _is_ my prerogative as a Warlord, is it not? Anybody under my wing is protected. Free from prosecution.”

“...I had hoped you would say that. The last thing that boy needs is to get thrown in jail. So, why did you run, knowing that?”

Law looked straight into the Buddha's eyes.

“If I had not been there, he would have not admitted his wrongs. You may have suspected it, but, without proof, you cannot arrest him. And, something tells me that you would not have questioned him about it either.”

Law was **not** going to admit that he was running away from his emotions.

“I take it, that's the only answer I will get?”

Law only grunted.

.+++.

Twelve years.

Rosinante stared up at the ceiling.

He had been frozen for **twelve** years.

As the initial euphoria faded, he only began to realise just how significant that information was. Sengoku’s grey hairs. The wrinkles on his face. The tired, worn expressions. But, also being the Fleet Admiral was not an easy job.

There was beeping in the background, and Rosinante let the sound soothe his nerves.

Twelve years, huh?

Without him there to stop him, Doffy had probably gone through with his plans. Those poor people of Dressrosa… What had happened to the other children, he found himself wondering. They probably remained with the Family…

(And then, tears: tears threatened to overwhelm him. Rosinante knew he was just being emotional. Knew that any emotion intense enough could make him cry. That _too many_ emotions at once could make him cry. But, no. He couldn’t. Not right now.)

And Law… He had become a pirate, inasmuch as he could presume. Although that only begged the question as to _why_ he was here, why he was with Sengoku and…

 ** _Twelve_** years...

.xxx.

Sengoku had greeted him in the morning. Law, too, had been there but…

There was this distant look in his eyes. He had been all mechanical. All professional. Took his vitals, some observations, and then he just…

_Left._

Rosinante stared after Law. At the door that he exited through, worry filling him.

Why?

“Well,” Sengoku’s voice broke through the silence between them, rattling a paper, “I do suppose we better get you caught up on what has happened in the past twelve years, shouldn’t we?”

.xxx.

So Sengoku had spent the next few days filling him in. On the history of the Donquixote Family. About his brother’s Warlord status. About his ‘rescue’ of Dressrosa.

Thankfully, at least Sengoku believed it to be complete bullshit, but they could not get any proof otherwise. All investigations turned up… empty.

Sengoku told him about the changes in the Marines. About the changes in the Warlords, and how _Law_ was now one of them. About Garp’s grandson causing havoc in their ranks. About the Great War. And, finally the fact that he had stepped down. About just who took his place.

“Sakazuki?!”

And Sengoku, he sighed. “To be honest, he had not been my pick, but many others nominated him. Kuzan had been my nomination, and the two of them battled it out for ten days. Ultimately, it had been Sakazuki who came out victorious.”

And Rosinante found himself sighing. Sakazuki, huh? That man… well, Rosinante never did fully get along with him even on his _good_ days. He viewed the world in colours of black and white. There was no maybes. No what ifs. Just _absolutes._

“I… I do not know if I will like the direction he will take the Marines…”

He did suppose, it made sense to others however. With the surge and overabundance of piracy in this day in age, a firm hand would be needed.

(But, then again, it wasn’t always _piracy_ that was the issue here. Look at Buffalo. Look at Baby 5. Hell, _look at Law, for crying out loud._ Some people only turned to piracy _because there was no other option._ )

“Ah... about that…”

He looked up at those words, curious as to what Sengoku was going to say.

“...You _cannot_ be a Marine any longer, Rosinante. Not after what you have done. If _I_ do not ask you about it, somebody else _will._ Perhaps, you could play off your presence at Minion Island as being part of your brother’s crew undercover. But... I do not know how long that would work. You _were_ ordered to stay away, after all. The only reason you haven’t been debriefed and also interrogated was simply because doing so could have killed you. The timing was just too close. The fact that you _know_ Law. The fact that he has the devil fruit that had been stolen from us…”

Rosinante exhaled and looked up at the ceiling again.

He almost forgot about that - _almost_. About the actions he took, in ways that could be construed as betrayal. But, there still was this part of him that expected this, that anticipated this.

(Of course, there was the part of him that hoped. That maybe - just _maybe_ it could be overlooked. But, with Sakazuki now the Fleet Admiral…)

But, ultimately, this had been his decision. He made it, consciously, knowing that he could very well lose his position with the Marines because of it.

(That had been why. Why he made up that letter. Had Law deliver--)

“Shit!” Rosinante sat up straight.

“Sengoku, there is _something dire_ I need tell you about!”

He reached up to touch a particularly tender spot on his shoulder.

“My brother - _he didn’t give me these bruises._ ” He found himself gritting his teeth. “It was by a Marine - a man planted to spy for my brother. His name, it’s _Vergo._ Or, should I say: the first Corazon.”

.+++.

“...So, you’re a Warlord.”

As the days went by, as Cora-san recovered, Law had purposely avoided him. Had only come in to do the bare minimum required of him as a doctor, and had left. Left Sengoku and Cora-san alone.

Left the two of them to bond. Catch up. Give them _time_ together, because this could very well be the last moments they would be allowed - at least publically.

(And, even now, this, technically, was more than what they probably should have. Law could very well easily have done all of Cora-san’s follow up care in his sub. Could have whisked him away. But, then again, Sengoku _was_ the best person to fill Cora-san in on the last twelve years. Law had been a kid for most of it, anyway. And, mental health was important, too, was it not?)

Of course, that had not been the _only_ reason that Law had been avoiding the other.

No, Law was having enough trouble as it were keeping his emotions - his _sanity_ \- in check. And seeing that smile, hearing his laughter…

It was _too much._

(Of course, Law was still very much overjoyed that Cora-san was alive, but there was also _so much shit_ along with all of that. Stuff he had pushed down. Pushed away. Had satiated it with the promise of revenge… and now, now _all of that had come undone_ and Law was putting every ounce of energy to hold it back just a little bit longer.)

So, he kept his distance. Kept professional. Until it was time.

And, that time, it was _now._

“Yeah.”

But he still kept his distance. Leaning against a wall, his arms crossed in a silent gesture of keeping things in. And Law knew that Cora-san knew that, too. Law wasn't an idiot. Cora-san knew him very well, even if it had been twelve years.

“Ironic. That was the last thing I would have thought you would have done.”

Almost - _almost_ \- did Law lose it. Then and there. Because Cora-san - _he didn’t know **this.**_ He didn’t know the side of him that became so **twisted** , so **gnarled** because of his perceived death. Did not know just how _**desperate**_ Law had been to get his revenge.

(Because it was the _only thing he knew._ )

Law settled on a scoff, instead.

He felt that burning gaze on him. The one that Cora-san would give him when he did not approve of something he said or did.

Thankfully, he never voiced it.

“And I suppose… you want me to join your crew.”

And anger - from and entirely _different_ source bubbled up, so Law just let himself ride it. Let some of that building steam out in more… _acceptable_ and remembered ways: Irritation.

“Tch.”

Because Cora-san _did not need to phrase it that way._ Did not need to make it a blunt statement and _not_ a question. Almost as if he was being pressured into it. That _he didn’t want to._

“Do you _want_ to go to jail, damn it, Cora-san?!”

But then - then the idiot just _laughed._ Played it off, like the bastard he was.

And Law slumped back onto the wall he never noticed he stepped away from.

(Because - of course. Of _course_ Law wanted Cora-san to join him. Besides, _wasn’t this their original plan anyway?_ And this was Cora-san. The man he owed **everything** to. The man who _**died**_ for him. The man who taught him to laugh, live, **love.** The man who gave up his job, his _mission_. Who gave up his **freedom.** For him: some sickly, scrawny, ungrateful son of a bitch who _stabbed_ him. And if Law could do _anything_ to make it better, to ease it, even just a little bit, if Law could _give back_ the things Cora-san lost, he would. In a heartbeat. Without question or hesitation.)

“Well,” Cora-san said, still laughing, “I’m glad to know that _some_ things never change, Law.”

...What the **hell** was that supposed to mean?

“Or, I suppose it’s _Captain_ now, isn’t it?”

(Oh. Gods. That just sent a shiver of _wrong_ down his spine.)

“D-Don’t _call_ me that!” Cora-san was older than him. Cora-san was his… was his… “I-It’s _weird_ , okay?”

.+++.

“-Where’d Law go?”

Law had introduced him to his crew - his _friends._ And, seeing them, it made Rosinante happy. Left him overjoyed that Law had built this himself. That Law had found people who cared for him. That Law had made a life for himself. The introductions, of course, had been brief. Law never had been one to wear his emotions on his sleeves, after all.

(“Everybody, meet Cora-san. Cora-san, everybody. He’s joining our crew.”)

He had left them to their own devices and slunk off to the side and observed them from a distance. Meanwhile, the Hearts Pirates (Rosinante, really, could not get over the name. Or their Jolly Roger, for that matter. Seriously, Law? _Seriously?_ ) had decided to throw a welcoming party.

They all introduced themselves. Asked about his name, which Rosinante was content enough with them calling him by his codename, (he was officially a pirate now, anyway) and he informed them, letting them decide on which to use. (And most, did, defer to their captain’s choice of name.) Then, stories were told. About how they met the captain, how they joined the crew. And Rosinante lost himself in those stories. Lost himself in learning about the Law he did not have an opportunity to meet. About how Law grew up. Stories that Sengoku could never tell him. Stories that Law _would never_ tell him.

Proud - Rosinante was _so_ proud.

But, he eventually had noticed that Law had not just slunk off to some dark corner, but had actually left the room, nowhere in sight.

“--Captain?” They all did seem to call him that, too. (So he got to be the odd one out. Gee, thanks Law.) “Oh, he’s probably in his quarters. He never has been much of a party person.”

Well, at the very least, there was another thing that had never changed.

But, despite that fact, Law had been acting… strange. (And of course, of course Rocinante knew that that behaviour may very well be his norm, it still did not mean he wasn’t concerned.) He was shut off to him. Stoic. Like when he had snatched Law off on that little boat. When Law still hated his guts.

So, he wandered. Wandered the submarine - and yes, with a few mishaps here and there - but eventually found the room he was looking for, and knocked on the door.

“...Law?”

And then, the door shook as something smacked into it, a metal ting sounding as well.

...Did Law just…?

“ _Law?_ ”

Rocinante let more concern touch his voice and he knocked again.

“ ** _Go away!_** ”

The voice that hollered back at him was raspy. Broken. Almost... stuffy. As if he had been…

Rosinante’s hand automatically went for the handle - which very obviously had been locked and did not budge a millimeter.

(Of course. Of course that fucking brat never did get out of his habit of pushing people away.)

“Go away?” He spoke back to the other, knowing that there was only one way to deal with this. “Why? So I don’t see a snotty-nosed brat throwing a temper tantrum?” So, he let a scoff leave him, let the sarcasm drip from his voice. “ _Please_ , Law, as if I haven’t seen you worse.”

First, it had been silence. This awkward, long moment of silence. But then, then something _clicked_ beneath his hand, and Rocinante found that the handle now had some give to it.

Huh… did he unlock the door?

But he pushed that thought aside and tried the door, which opened for him. He couldn’t wait a second. Law always had been a fickle brat. And once he stepped through, he closed it behind him, locking the door as well.

His room, quite frankly, was a _mess._

Now, Rosinante was not too sure if it was a recent occurrence, or if this was just how Law lived. (Certainly, if it was the latter, Law would definitely get an earful later.) Carefully - inasmuch as he could - he stepped over a kidney basin that had been in front of the door.

Law - he was on his bed, holding his legs, his form slightly trembling, a sniff leaving him. He didn’t look up. Didn’t do anything but press his face into his knees for a few moments as more sniffles left him, until finally, finally he spoke:

“...I thought you had **died!** ”

And those words, they were muffled against his jeans, but Rosinante understood them just as well.

And they froze him.

“You - you **_died_** Cora-san!”

And that figure, it trembled. It shook violently, and Rosinante swore he could hear an hiccup. A sob.

“You - You locked me in _a fucking chest!_ ”

The grip on his legs tightened, nails digging into the skin of his arms.

“Let me hear **everything!** Hear as he interrogated you. Hear as you _apologised to me._ Let me _feel_ you gesturing to me. Feel as the fucking **bullets** reverberated through you! You let me… you _forced_ me to experience your… as you…”

And Rosinante, he _understood_ now. Understood why Law kept his distance. Why Law was so closed off. Why Law _tried to run away._

And just _why_ his crew seemed so… dismissive of Law’s absence at the party.

(Rosinante, he truly thought his death _wouldn’t matter._ That Law would move on. But, it was fairly obvious to him now that no, no he had not.)

“And so - so I listened to you. I _left_ and cursed you. I left and **_mourned_** you. I left and-”

(Law - he was _right_ to do all of that. To curse him. To be angry at him. Rosinante **lied** to Law, so many times over. About being a Marine. About Doffy. About…)

“And **then** I find out you’re **alive?** That, _if I didn’t leave..._ If I only went back there… That I _could have saved you?!_ That - that you’re _really weren’t_ dead? That you were out there - alone and bleeding out. That you were frozen. In a stasis. _for twelve fucking years?_ That--- That…”

“ _That_ is enough, Law.”

Law - the poor kid was blaming himself. For things out of his control, and Rocinante needed to put a stop to it. So, he walked forward, fully intending on wrapping his arms around Law in a tight hold - just like Sengoku had to him but…

He tripped over one of the many objects littering Law’s floor.

(Of course he fucking did.)

And that, it made Law lift his head up - snotty nosed and eyes red as Rosinante had said they would be - a deadpan expression written all over his face. And he stared. And stared. And stared.

“...You’re a _fucking klutz_ Cora-san.”

...Law took _too fucking long_ to say that. But, Rosinante grinned up at him nonetheless.

“Hey, it got you to stop, didn’t it?”

Seeing Law laughing - _hearing_ it - it was as good as he remembered it to be.

And Cora-san would ensure it would not be as rare, either.

(He had twelve years to make up for, after all.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also I know I left a few suspense moments and "what now" questions, and left some things out. But alas. I'm not going to go into every change - right now at least. Maybe I'll write more on this fic down the road. (and this chapter was over 3k words, okay? xD) But for now, voila. open ended.


End file.
